


Through a Glass, Darkly

by kirakirababy



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Drama, F/M, M/M, Original Character(s), Parallel Universes, Romance, Science Fiction, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:24:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4324809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakirababy/pseuds/kirakirababy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parallel universes, also known as multiverses, are a group of theoretical twin universes that coexist at the same time as our own. These other universes contain space, time and strange forms of exotic matter. Some of them may even contain you, in a slightly different form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“I'll be there in five.”  
I hear you huff though the phone and can imagine the annoyance pulling at your lips and making your eyebrows twitch.  
“You know, I'm always the one that gets yelled at when we're late to these things.” I smile when I hear your lighter clicking impatiently. It's starting to rain, but I barely notice it. I switch the phone from my hand to my shoulder, and flip on the windshield wipers. You continue, and I can tell you're smoking now, “if I wasn't your best friend...”  
“Is that a threat?” I murmur teasingly into the phone.  
“Don't be stupid. Is it raining there? It's fucking pouring here.”  
“How far away do you think I am? I can almost see your apartment.”  
The streetlight turns green.  
The glare of headlights from my right and the sound of screeching wheels on the rain-slick street are the only warnings before...  
  
An explosion of movement and sound.  
  
The crunching and twisting of metal.  
The shattering of glass.  
The smell of the rain and powdery chemicals on my skin.  
  
And then...  
  
Darkness.  
  
  
 _Have you ever woken up from a dream  
that seemed so real  
you weren't sure if you were still dreaming or not?  
  
How did you finally decide  
  
That you were awake?_  
  
  
The brightness of the hospital room is in stark contrast to that deep, still darkness.  
  
I become slowly aware of myself again.  
The feeling of being unwrapped from a head-to-toe cotton candy swathing.  
Bright and fuzzy lights filtering in through still-closed eyelids.  
Of breathing.  
Of my limbs and extremities.  
Something is wrapped tightly around my neck and the skin of my arms feels heavy with something more than the smooth hospital sheets covering the rest of my body.  
I hear the feint murmuring of several voices, and the beeping of the heart monitor.  
The voices stop, but the constant beep of the machine continues steadily on.  
With an extreme effort I attempt to open my eyes, and wonder idly why such a simple action should be so difficult.  
The brightness I felt from behind my eyelids suddenly fills my vision, and I groan.  
The noise sounds odd to my own ears.  
Is that quiet whimper really me?  
  
Suddenly the voices fill the room again, I can recognize some of them. They're calling for a doctor, they sound excited and are saying something about my eyes.  
  
I am suddenly thrust back into myself.  
Jarring. My system is overwhelmed with the reality of the hospital.  
The bed, the machines, the sterile walls, the doctors and nurses.  
My mother and father.  
You.  
  
It seems odd to me that you would be here, with my mother and father.  
You were never particularly close with my family. Where is Emiko? Shouldn't my girlfriend be here?  
You're holding my mother's hand, and she's crying.  
My father steps outside.  
  
The doctors are talking to me slowly, and a little too loudly.  
“Do you remember your name?”  
“Yuu...”  
“Your last name?”  
“Sh...” Why is this so hard?  
“Do you know the date?”  
“It's... June.”  
“The year?”  
“2012.”  
I glance to where I can feel a warm hand over mine. It's yours, but I can't seem to concentrate on anything for more than a moment.  
“Do you know why you're here?”  
“I...” Flashes of light and sound. It must have been a car accident, I suddenly realize. “I was in an accident.”  
I hear a sob next to me and turn my head as much as possible to find you turned away, clearly trying to hold yourself together. Without much luck.  
“Do you know where you are?”  
“Kou... it's okay.” I use as much strength as I can to steady my voice and squeeze your hand.  
“Mr. Shiroyama, this is very important. Please try and answer these questions.”  
“I'm in a fucking hospital. Where is Emiko?”  
“Emiko?”  
The doctor glances towards my mother who looks perplexed.  
“Who is he talking about?” She whispers towards you.  
“I...have no idea.” You turn your head and lean closer to me, the bed shifts and a nurse scolds you as she scribbles something on a clipboard.  
I realize that you're much too close.  
And when your lips connect softly with mine, my eyes widen.  
“What the fuck are you doing?” I finally hiss, pulling away as quickly as I can with the hindrance of what appears to be a neck-brace.  
“What...” Your eyes are glimmering with pools of unshed tears and you look hurt. “What do you mean?”  
  
This is too much.  
My mind darts to the last time I saw you, did I give you some indication of how I felt about you then? No. I was always careful. We were careful. Never to overstep the boundaries we had painstakingly built 9 years ago.  
Am I dreaming?  
  
Nothing makes sense.  
  
Why would I wake up... and dream?  
  
The doctors are asking questions again. But I can't think.  
“Do you recognize this person?”  
“Of course.”  
“What's his name?”  
“Kouyou. He's a co-worker.”  
“What the hell?” I hear you mutter beside me, you seem to be in some sort of disbelief. “Co-worker?”  
“Yuu.” My mother's voice. “Do you know who I am?”  
“Mom.” Relief spreads over her features and I glance at you again.  
“For god sakes, Yuu.” Your voice is low and trembling, your hand is still resting on mine and I finally glance down to where you are rubbing slow, soothing circles against the back of my hand. I don't understand why you're so upset by that.  
For a moment I can't quite tell where your hand ends and mine begins.  
Matching rings.  
Since when have we worn matching rings?  
“How would he... remember my name but not who I am to him?” Your voice is still shaking, and I can tell you're upset.  
I find myself transfixed on those silver bands, while the doctor speaks quietly, reassuringly.  
“Temporary amnesia is often a side-effect of trauma resulting from car collisions. His memory may return within a few hours or days.”  
I feel a tug at my arm and let my eyes slide from our hands to my arm, where a nurse is injecting a new medication into the IV.  
A burning sensation  
and then...  
  
 _“Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes"_  
  
I sit up suddenly, my body in a cold sweat.  
I gasp at the amount of white pain that suddenly floods my senses and moan as I lay back into the familiar comfort of my bed.  
“Yuu? Are you in pain?” Emiko's familiar voice floats across the space between us, and I sigh in relief.  
She is already sitting up, perched precariously in her favourite armchair. The curtains are drawn tightly, but it must be at least ten in the morning. She looks tired, wearing a pair of my pajama pants and an over-sized T, her long black hair is tied up into a ponytail. “They told me it would be okay if you want to take those every 5 hours.” She motions to the bottle of half-empty pills on my nightstand.  
“I had a strange dream.”  
She smiles sadly. “You said that in the hospital too.”  
“I did?”  
“You did.” She stands, stretching backwards so that her soft belly peaks out between the flannel pants and the worn T shirt.  
“Come lay by me.”  
I want to know you're really here.  
“I'm going to start some breakfast. You said yesterday you weren't feeling too hungry. How are you today?”  
I sit still against the plush pillows.  
Trying to remember yesterday.  
No luck.  
“What is the date?”  
“July, first.”  
July... first?  
“And... when was the accident?”  
“Last Wednesday. Yuu...” She moves closer to me and picks up the bottle of pills and a bottle of water, setting them down beside me in bed. “Are you feeling okay? You've been saying some... strange things.”  
“Strange?”  
She shrugs, and smiles brightly, shaking her head. “It's nothing. The doctors said it might take a few weeks for you to start feeling like yourself again.”  
“Emi.” I reach out for her small hand, taking it in mine and pulling her close to the bed. She leans over and kisses softly along my cheekbones, a small warm trail from just below my eye to my lips.  
“Let me make you breakfast.” She whispers, unscrewing the pill bottle and handing me a large, white pill. “And take this.”  
  
The memory of that strange dream slowly fades as Emiko and I eat our breakfast of eggs, toast and juice.  
  
“You always asked me to make you breakfast in bed.” She teases, leaning her head gently against my shoulder. “I wish I would have done it before now.”  
“Have you already told me the damage?” I ask softly, chewing on a piece of slightly burnt toast. Emi never was a great cook.  
“Several times.”  
“Over this past week?”  
“Mhmm.”  
“Can you tell me again?”  
“Three broken ribs, broken arm” She points at the cast covering my right arm from wrist to bicep. “whip lash, chemical burns and concussion.” She places her hand over mine, “it could have been much worse, you know. You should see your car.”  
“I'm not sure I want to. My guitar?”  
She laughs and points to the corner of the bedroom. “You know you were more worried about that fucking guitar than your own damn self? You've been asking about it constantly, insisting that it was smashed.”  
“It's important to me.”  
“I know.” She stands, clearing away the breakfast tray and moving across the room towards the door. “Go to sleep.”  
“Promise me you'll be here when I wake up?”  
“I promise.”  
  
 _“There is no one reality.  Each of us lives in a separate universe.  That's not speaking metaphorically.  This is the hypothesis of the stark nature of reality suggested by recent developments in quantum physics.  Reality in a dynamic universe is non-objective.  Consciousness is the only reality.”_  
  
The shifting of the mattress wakes me from my drug-induced sleep. Glancing towards the movement, I feel my entire body stiffen.  
I'm not in my bed.  
My bed has too many throw pillows, and the sheets are a crisp white, Emi's doing.  
This bed is soft, probably a memory foam mattress, and the sheets are a deep midnight blue.  
And you...  
are sitting on the edge of this unfamiliar bed, all sultry, tousled hair and bare shoulders.  
You must sense that I'm awake, and turn to face me, as my eyes wander lower along the smooth curve of your back, stopping where the sheets pool softly around pale hips.  
“Hey.”  
How did I get here? Where...  _is_  here?  
It isn't your apartment...or mine.  
You smile, and the light filtering in through the bedroom curtains lights your weary features.  
“Are you hurting?”  
“What the fuck is going on?”  
You furrow your eyebrows and run a hand through your hair.  
“Do you need your medicine?”  
“I want to go home.”  
“What are you talking about? You are home, you asshole.” You snap, tossing me my medicine bottle. “Do you need me to remind you we've been living together for more than eight years now?”  
“...”  
“You've been so strange. I know... the doctor's said it might take a little while for you to feel like your old self again.. but really, this schizo-Aoi is grating as fuck. One day you're perfectly fine, the next day you're telling me you live in this apartment with a girlfriend?” You shake you head and sigh heavily. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” You pull on a loose shirt and stand shakily. “I'm just tired...worried. I don't mean to take it out on you.”  
I decide it's best to say nothing for a moment and just take in my surroundings.  
Everything is eerily similar to the apartment I share with Emiko.  
Yet...  
“Hey, Uru?”  
You raise one eyebrow. I'm guessing at the use of your stage nickname.  
“Hm?”  
“Can you pinch me?”  
You laugh suddenly, your smile brightening your face for a moment and causing my stomach to tighten, like it always does when you laugh like that just for me. You reach over and pinch me rather roughly on the cheek.  
It hurts.  
“Oh, I almost forgot.” You motion to the corner of the room. “They brought that by this morning.”  
I squint, but my eyes haven't adjusted to the light and I can't quite make out the pile of debris in the shadowed corner.  
“Your guitar. Or what's left of it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Our belief that time flows... is really an illusion because in fact, time does not flow at all.”

  
_"Our belief that time flows... is really an illusion because in fact, time does not flow at all.”_  
  
It's been happening more and more frequently.  
  
At first... I assumed it must have been a combination of the concussion and the medication.  
But now, it's happening nearly every time I close my eyes.  
  
One moment here  
and then...  
  
“Aoi-chan.”  
I groan, and crack open one eye, feeling your breath ghosting across my cheek.  
“Uruha.”  
“We're almost there.”  
“What did you do to your hair?”  
“My...hair?” You tilt your head to the left and grab a strand of the near-platinum locks, pulling it in front of your nose and examining it. “What do you mean? It's been the same for weeks now. You don't like it?”  
I blink my eyes quickly, trying to focus on your puzzled features.  
Your skin and face look...  
“young.”  
“My hair looks... young?” You raise an eyebrow before settling into the seat net to me. “I guess that's better than the alternative?”  
I'm not really paying attention to you anymore.  
“What year is this?”  
“Fuck you.” You mutter, clearly irritated by my lack of interest.  
“Indulge me.”  
Your eyes flicker with something before you flip open your phone and hold the tiny screen to my nose.  
“2005?”  
“Are you drunk?” You take an exaggerated sniff of the air near my mouth.  
“N-no.” I stammer, and you close the distance between our lips smoothly, smiling impishly.  
“Good. Because we have a few hours in a hotel before setup today.” My head is reeling as your hand slips between my thighs and I grab your wrist.  
“I... don't think that's a good idea.”  
  
I can't help it when the thought pops into my mind.  
Is having sex with you in 2005 cheating on my girlfriend in 2012?  
  
You cross your arms over your chest, pouting childishly. “Why the hell not? What have you done with my sex-addict boyfriend?” You tease.  
  
Boyfriend?  
I close my eyes and turn away from your haughty face.  
  
Jumping times... and still slipping between  
  
here and there.  
  
I open my eyes cautiously and survey the bus.  
Small differences.  
Things that definitely weren't stored on the bus we took in 2005.  
If I wasn't looking for them I wouldn't have found them.  
  
You're talking to me again as we leave the bus, heading towards the hotel. I have to force my attention back to your face.  
“Huh?”  
“I said...” your voice is low and tender, like a caress. “I don't give a fuck if you think it's a good idea or not.”  
I know the look you're giving me, even after years of going without seeing it.  
Your wild eyes and flushed features say everything.  
  
The smell of you floods my senses as you kick the door closed behind us.  
“Touch me.”  
“Uru...”  
You step forward, pressing your body against mine. Your eyes are hungry and glowing amber in the dimmed light of the hotel room.  
Your hands are wandering lower, unzipping, unbuttoning, pushing fabric, pulling my shirt over my head.  
  
It's all I can do to keep breathing.  
  
You're intoxicating.  
  
“Are you okay, Yuu?” You murmur against my lips as you guide me backwards towards the bed. “You seem...” You meet my eyes, running your tongue along my neck slowly “nervous.”  
  
Of course I'm nervous.  
  
We haven't fucked for years.  
  
And... this... version of you  
the one who seems to know every inch of my skin  
every way to make me come undone  
isn't the Uruha I remember.  
  
Your eyes are expressive.  
Dark pools of confusion and need.  
  
My eyes are watering despite my best efforts and I'm moving my hands over your skin slowly.  
Reintroducing myself to your every imperfection.  
Appreciating the goosebumps beneath my fingertips and the small noises falling from your lips.  
I've missed this.  
“You are so... fucking...perfect.”  
“You're freaking me out.” You laugh, “What's with that look?”  
“What look?”  
You raise an eyebrow, “ _That_  look.”  
“I've missed you."  
"You're so weird. I haven't gone anywhere."  
  
 _”In other words, the “river” of time is not really there. That may seem as absurd as claiming that material objects are not really there..."_  
  
“Aoi-kun”  
I sigh, tightening my grip on the smooth, gentle curves beneath my fingers.  
Opening my eyes, I expect to find you next to me, blonde hair artfully mussed and smiling tiredly.  
  
Instead  
  
I am greeted by Emiko. Yawning as she stretches her arms over her head lazily.  
I let my hand drop from where it had been resting on familiar the curve of her hip.  
“I'm sorry. But I have to get to work. You don't mind if I freshen up here?”  
“Why would I mind?” I answer without thinking.  
She meets my eyes with a slightly embarrassed look before tugging a shirt on.  
  
Taking a moment to really look at her has my heart pounding in my ears.  
Her cheeks are stained a youthful carnation and she has too much eye makeup on.  
She has always been self-conscious of the shape of her eyes.  
Her hair is cut short, falling to just below her chin.  
I can't remember the last time her hair was this length. It must have been five or six years ago.  
About the time we started dating.  
  
“I had a great time last night.”  
“Me too.”  
Did I?  
She smiles and brushes her lips softly against mine.  
“I'd like to... see you again.”  
  
I feel sick to my stomach.  
And weak.  
For allowing myself the pleasure of indulging in something so forbidden.  
And then pretending...  
  
pretending what?  
  
That I'm not fucking crazy?  
  
That I'm faithful to her  
and to you?  
  
“I'd like that too.”  
  
She smiles, a slightly crooked grin, as she slides on top of me.  
“One more for the road?”  
  
If I close my eyes...she reminds me of you.  
  
 _But... physicists have generally rejected the notion that events “happen” as opposed to merely exist in the four-dimensional spacetime continuum.”_  
  
“I'm so tired.”  
“We're all tired.”  
“You don't understand.”  
I don't know how much more of this I can take.  
“We've all been working, Aoi.”  
“I know. I'm sorry.”  
You snort. And rest your head on my shoulder, your eyes locked on your PSP. “I'm just saying, I do understand.”  
I shrug and watch you out of the corner of my eye.  
  
I remember this day.  
  
Emiko and I have an argument.  
  
About you and I.  
  
But here... there is no Emiko, there is no one to argue with about the way you look at me sometimes.  
About the way I touch you.  
In a way that “two friends don't.”  
  
You turn your head slightly, murmuring, “I can't wait to get out of here. Ru is a fucking terror during mixing.”  
“Want to get something to drink?”  
You smile impishly.  
“Definitely.”  
  
Your hands are on my hips and you're pulling me against you suggestively, resting your forehead against mine.  
  
My eyes slip to the shadowed seats on the outer edge of the dance floor.  
She's not here.  
  
Not here to see how you're holding me.  
Not here to see how you rest your cheek against mine.  
Not here to cry when I let myself kiss you.  
  
 _All things simultaneously exist at the same time. All moments are equally real._  
  
“All I want to know... is if there's something going on.”  
“No.”  
  
We've had this conversation before.  
  
An actor in my own memories.  
  
I remember just what to say.  
  
“Sometimes it just feels...”  
“Just say it Emi.”  
“It feels like...” She throws her hands up in the air, red-faced. “I mean... I know what I signed up for when I found out what you did for a living...” She sighs and sits down heavily at the kitchen table, resting her chin in her palm. “But I didn't think you'd continue that... kind of thing off-stage.”  
  
I sit down next to her, tipping her chin so she's looking directly at me.  
“What do you want me to say right now?”  
I already know her answer.  
“Tell me you don't love him. Tell me you've never...” Her voice cracks and she shakes her head. A tear escapes and lands on the table.  
“Emi.”  
“Tell me.”  
  
I can't lie to her.  
  
Even though I know exactly what would happen if I did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All events have the properties of past, present and future, at the same time. This is sometimes referred to as block time."

_All events have the properties of past, present and future, at the same time. This is sometimes referred to as block time._  
  
How long has this been going on?  
I don't even really know what that question means any more.  
  
But it's strangely... beginning to feel normal.  
That should be a warning sign, right?  
I'm losing my mind, or I already lost it somewhere between this reality and that one.  
  
I would have never imagined that a time machine  
would look like a car accident.  
  
Or that one decision in the future  
could affect the past.  
  
“Hey, wake up.”  
“Mmph.”  
“Come on, Yuu.”  
  
Your voice is almost calming to me again.  
You were always great at easing my rather explosive personality.  
  
I want you every time I open my eyes.  
  
I attempt to swat at you, realizing that my arm is in a sling when I end up nearly slamming myself in the face with the heavy cast.  
You laugh, and then pull the heavy blankets off of me, one at a time.  
“I have something I want you to watch. You can't pretend you're still hurting.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because you were well enough to fuck last night.”  
I snort “Irrelevant.”  
“Is not.”  
“I'd have to be dead before you let me off the hook.”  
You shrug before helping me into my pajama pants. “I will neither confirm nor deny that.”  
  
“What is this?”  
“I finally put that video I took onto a bluray disc.”  
“Oh?” Of course, I have absolutely no idea what video you're talking about, but I've found it's easier on my mind to just wait for an explanation.  
“Mhmm.”  
You flip on the tv, and I wince at both the high pitched ascending whine your tv emits, as well as the pain caused by your incessant tugging.  
My ribs are placed in an uncomfortable angle, making it more painful to breathe. “This fucking hurts.”  
“Too bad.” You run your fingers through my hair, eyes glued to the tv screen. “I worked really hard on this, so you'd better fucking like it.” You state, and I chuckle.  
  
My eyes are drawn to the figure on the screen.  
It's me.  
But I have no recollection of being filmed while surfing.  
Or of ever surfing anywhere outside of Japan.  
A voice floats out of the sound system, you seem to be talking to yourself.  
 _“You're amazing, Yuu.”_  
  
I feel my throat tighten as the scene unravels, revealing day after day of surfing in the early morning sun, and you murmur softly,  
“Wasn't this the best vacation? I don't think I've ever been so happy.”  
  
The screen cuts to the ocean at sunset.  
 _“I don't think this video will do it justice.”_  Your voice.  
 _“I don't need a video to remember this.”  
“What about when we're old and can't remember shit?” _The camera shifts suddenly and lands on me, wet suit peeled down to my hips, laying on the sand, my surf board placed lovingly beside me.  
The camera zooms in closer and closer, until only my smile is visible.  
 _“Cut it out.”_  
The zoom reverses.  
Your other hand is in frame, fingers entwined with mine.  
I appear thoughtful for a moment, and then roll over, kissing your hand softly.  _“Okay, maybe the video camera was a good idea.”_  
You laugh and the screen goes dark for a moment, when an image appears again, it's you and I, sitting with our back to the camera, the crashing waves melting into the purples and blues of a late sunset sky.  
Your right hand is idly stroking the skin of my back, brushing sand from where it stuck to seawater.  
  
 _“Do you really want to do this?_  Unmistakably my voice, but the screen is dark.  
 _“Come on, Yuu. Where's your sense of adventure?”  
“This better not end up on the internet...”  
 _You laugh and the camera suddenly switches to night vision, a green glow highlights two bodies on a bed.  
 _“Night vision? Night vision is not sexy Kou.”  
“I happen to think green is sexy.”  
“I'll let the hulk know.”  
“Mm..”_ __You straddle my hips, the sheets of the hotel bed pooling around us so that only the curve of your back is visible in the light of the camera.  
Any other conversation was lost between heated kisses and curses.  
  
I glance up from your lap to find you blushing furiously, and I can't help but laugh.  
Of course you would have suggested a sex tape on vacation.  
  
Your laughing face fills the screen, flushed and breathless.  
 _ _ _“It feels stra~nge”_  You wail, and your head twitches out of frame.  
 _“Hold still.”___  
The camera slowly and shakily zooms out to reveal you, still laughing, with 4 large birds, parrots, perched on your arms and shoulders.  
 _ _ _“Okay, Mister 'Hold Still,' it's your turn.”  
“I think I'm good.”  
“Oh no you're not. Come here and take these fucking birds off of me.” ___Your words are harsh, but your smile says everything.  
  
The ocean again.  
The camera flips so that you take up the screen.  
 _ _ _ _“Our last day in Hawaii. You are a fucking idiot for trying to surf these North Shore waves, and I will never forgive you if you die.”____  
The camera flips back to the monster waves of the famous North Shore of Oahu. I can tell you're nervous as the camera searches through the packed lineup of surfers near the break-line, stopping when you find me.  
 _ _ _ _“I swear to fucking god...”____ Your voice is irritated, but I recognize the nervousness bubbling beneath the words.  
  
Watching myself drop in on a wave is something surreal, and my breath hitches in my throat as I feel your fingers tighten on my hair.  
“You know, I could have killed you myself if I wasn't sure you were going to die.”  
  
The screen fades out and the title scrolls up from the bottom  
  
Christmas, 2011  
  
  
 _ _ _ _“There is no fundamental reason why a particular "present" should be more valid than any other.”____  
  
  
“Yuu, wake up.” Emi's voice sounds agitated.  
“I'm up.”  
Her face appears in the doorway and she rolls her eyes.  
“By up, I mean showered and dressed. You know we have guests today.”  
We do?  
“Who's coming over?”  
“You are so forgetful lately. Did you make that doctor appointment?” Hands on her hips, she moves into the room. “Your band mates.” She finally answers my question.  
I glance down at the cast on my arm.  
“I haven't seen them yet?”  
“No, you haven't. Besides in the hospital. And they've been calling constantly. Hurry up and get ready, then hobble your injured ass to the kitchen, I need help with dinner.”  
  
Takanori arrives first, hugging Emi before bending to take his shoes off.  
I stay seated in the living room, not feeling particularly like standing.  
“You look like shit.” He says as he sits in the armchair to my right.  
“Thanks.”  
We sit in silence for a moment while Emi returns to the kitchen.  
“We were worried about you.” He says, leaning back into the chair slowly.  
  
The doorbell rings and Akira and Yutaka let themselves in.  
“Hey Emiko-chan” Yutaka calls from the entrance. “Need help in there, or did Yuu get some sense knocked into his head?”  
“I would love some help Yutaka-kun.” Her voice rings back, dishes clattering in that special way they do when she's particularly annoyed. “Something to drink? Akira-kun?”  
“Just a beer, thanks.”  
  
“Kou's not here yet?” Akira asks, slumping into the couch next to me.  
“Is there beer left?”  
He laughs.  
“Good point.”  
  
“So this is how my friends speak of me when I'm not here?” Your teasing voice from behind the couch, your hand lightly on my shoulder.  
Taka chuckles and sips on his water.  
“Didn't hear you come in.”  
“Of course, not when you're talking shit so loud I can hear you outside.” In the next breath, “How are you feeling?”  
Almost without thinking, I raise my hand to rest on yours, squeezing gently.  
“Better.” Or something like that.  
  
Takanori is watching with something like amusement in his eyes, and I freeze.  
You don't seem to notice the change in my body, and instead you bring your other hand around to rest lightly on my chest, leaning down to hug me gently.  
“Do you have any idea what a car accident sounds like on the other end of a phone?”  
“It wasn't too pleasant on my end either.”  
Emi calls that diner is ready from the kitchen and you brush your cheek against mine as you stand, “Don't fucking scare me like that again.”  
  
 _ _ _ _“Our cosmos is just one grain of sand on a multiverse beach.”____  
  
The dance of raindrops on leaves, and the rush of the rain when the wind gets behind it wakes me.  
I feel a heavy weight on my shoulder and look to my left to find you sleeping soundly.  
  
Your hair is a natural, deep brown, and you have more wrinkles than I remember, but my heart beats just as wildly as the first time I saw you.  
  
“Stop staring, you creep.” You mutter, and I realize you've probably been awake for much longer than I have.  
“Just looking at your wrinkles.”  
“Fuck you.” You grumble, wrinkling your nose before bursting into a smile and pulling me on top of your warm body.  
“I love them.”  
“Why? Because you feel young, Dorian Gray?”  
“No, because I think I must have given them to you.”  
At least I hope I have.  
“It's not usually a good thing to say you've given someone their wrinkles.”  
“It is when they're smile lines.”  
  
You laugh.  
“They're not all smile lines.”  
I lean forward, kissing the crows feet surrounding your eyes.  
“But they're all beautiful, just the same.”  
  
I know I'm in love.  
  
Something old and well-known  
  
The love of two persons and one soul.  
  
  
 _“What does it mean to exist over time? What does it mean to be 'me'?”_  
  
“Yuu... it's your turn.”  
“Hm?”  
Emi pulls the sheet over her head, motioning towards the door.  
At the door appears a pair of dark, wistful eyes.  
“Mama?” Calls the owner of the eyes.  
“Mama's tired, Sho. Ask daddy for breakfast.” Emi mumbles from beneath the covers.  
  
Mama?...Daddy?  
I feel my chest tighten.  
  
I sit up abruptly to find the boy, who couldn't be older than four or five, pattering noisily to the side of the bed.  
Slender with raven black hair falling just beneath his ears, and the red of perfect health in his cheeks.  
His hands, slim lines and with tapering fingers like a girl's, tug on the sheets.  
“Papa?”  
Emi sighs heavily, obviously annoyed by my silence.  
  
How could she know this is the first time I've seen my son?  
Our son.  
  
As I watch the way Emi, scoops him up, setting him on the edge of the bed, pushing his hair behind his ears and kissing his forehead...  
they are both so beautiful and  
  
I know I'm in love.  
  
Something new and completely foreign.  
  
The love a father feels towards his son.  
  
“What do you want to eat, baby?” Emi asks, pulling her hair into a low ponytail before jabbing me in the ribs with her elbow sharply. “Asshole,” she mutters somewhat playfully under her breath, sliding her feet into the slippers by the bed and taking Sho by the hand, leading him out of our bedroom and towards the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Change one thing. Change everything."

_"Change one thing. Change everything."_  
  
I close my eyes and feel the roar of the crowd wash over my body.  
I'm exhausted.  
I glance to your side of the stage, catching a glimpse of you, both hands in the air, hypnotizing them with each subtle movement. A flick of your wrist. A spray of water from your mouth.  
You playfully ask for more.  
More adoration form the anonymous, upturned faces.  
More buzzing energy to devour.  
More beautiful boys to misuse after the show.  
Our biggest show to date. December 28, 2003.  
  
You have no idea just how quickly things are going to change from here.  
How much our lives, our friendship will be shaped by this day.  
  
A quiet knocking at the door.  
Fuck.  
I was hoping that somehow I would be able to drift off, to disappear from this day before...  
  
“Aoi-kun?” Your voice, muffled only slightly by the cheap hotel door.  
“Coming...” A feeling of dread comes over me, I know what's waiting for me on the other side of that door.  
“Do you have company?” You're obviously still buzzing from the show, your eyes are bright and you're carrying a large bottle of sake under your arm.  
I motion to the empty room behind me, “No.”  
“Can I...”  
I sigh. Just. Fuck. “Yeah...sure.”  
“Great show, right?” You flop lazily onto the bed, setting the sake reverently on the sidetable.  
“Yeah... listen... I'm really tired Uru.” Maybe I can stop this.  
“Too tired to have a few drinks?” You raise an eyebrow.

 

 

I know that's not why you're here.

  
_"A butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe.”_

  
  
“I guess a few drinks couldn't hurt.”  
  
_“No... not tonight. You can stay here, or go back to your room. But...”_  
  
“Kanpai!” You smile widely, throwing your head back and laughing loudly.  
  
_“But...what?” You shift uncomfortably on the bed, sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest._  
  
“Kanpai, you fucking idiot, shut up before you wake up the whole hotel.” I laugh, tossing my head back and letting the warm burn of alcohol flood my already abused system.  
  
_“But I don't want to be just another conquest tonight, Uruha. I thought I could handle this... I thought we were adults. But we're just fucking kids, and you and I don't know what the fuck we want.”_  
  
My head is spinning as you pull me against you, licking my lips lewdly and pulling at my shirt, “I want you to fuck me... like everyone in that audience wanted to do... I need a smoke first.”  
  
_“What... are you talking about?_  
  
I groan as you light a cigarette, setting it between your lips and leaning back against the headboard. “Come on, Aoi.”  
  
_Don't give me that look. “I'm just saying... I want something more than what you're willing to give me right now.”_  
  
I shake my head, standing suddenly, the room spins, but I manage to stay on my feet. “This is not normal. You know that, right?”  
  
_“And how the hell do you know what I'm willing to give you, you arrogant shit.”_  
  
Your eyes flash, and I know you're annoyed when you stub your half-smoked cigarette out violently. “I thought you wanted this.”  
  
_“You've shown me.” By fucking everyone else, and me._  
  
“No. You never asked what I wanted, you just took what you needed. You can't just decide you want a relationship with me when you fucking feel like it.” I'm tugging my shirt on and attempting to buckle my belt. “Just because a million people want to fuck you doesn't mean I do too.”  
  
_“Fuck you.” You're suddenly very close to me, your hand in my shirt, “Don't act like you're better than me. And don't act like you're my fucking prince charming. You wanted a fuck and I gave you one. How am I supposed to know what you want if you don't tell me?”_  
  
“Don't you fucking walk away from this, Aoi.” You're standing up unsteadily as I walk out the door. I can't tell for certain, but I think there are tears in your eyes, at least there are tears in your voice.  
  
_I grab you harshly by your chin, meeting your fiery eyes, years of frustration released in one quick sentence, “I want you. I want all of you. Fuck, Kou...” Your eyes widen and your fingers uncurl slowly._  
  
I walk until my feet throb. And then I walk some more. I need to clear my head.  
  
_“Why now? Why would you tell me this now?” You whisper, tucking your hair behind you ear as I release your chin from my hand._  
  
I find myself in a bar. Not quite a dive, but nothing to write home about either.  
  
_“Because I don't want to lose what we could have.” You tilt you head, confusion playing along your features. “I want you... to let me love you.”_  
  
My eyes are drawn to a figure at the bar, a slight woman with shoulder-length hair tied back into a low braid, wearing a simple blue dress, idly tracing the rim of her glass with her finger.  
  
_“Love...” Your eyes are still wide and unblinking, and you look somewhat like a deer caught in the headlights. You move slowly, gently, resting your forehead against mine, “I can't promise you love, Yuu.”_  
  
“Mind if I join you?”  
  
_Your lips brush mine, “But I can promise you tonight.”_  
  
She turns her head towards me and shrugs, finishing off her drink before saying, “I'm not sure what you're looking for, but I'm afraid I'll disappoint” and turning away again.  
  
_I take my time preparing you, and you're cursing and writhing with need by the time I reach for a condom._  
  
“What makes you think I'm looking for something?”  
  
_“Please...please...” You moan against my shoulder, eyes squeezed close. I pull your hips flush against mine, and you hiss at the angle change, crying out and tightening your fingers on my back._  
  
“Come on, everyone here is looking for something. They're hoping the bottoms of their glasses have the answers to their problems.” She turns to face me, “So...what are you looking for?”  
  
_Breathing heavily, I fall against you, and hear you whisper, “I'm afraid of this... of what you can do to me.”_  
  
“I don't know.”  
  
_“And what do I do to you?” I murmur against your damp skin._  
  
“I'm looking for my life back.” She declares, lifting her finger for another drink. “I don't know why I'm talking to you like this.” She laughs bitterly, taking a gulp, and crossing her arms, “we've only just met. And.. I don't even know your name.”  
  
_You ignore the question, running your fingers through my hair, “I'm terrified of weakness when I'm around you.”_  
  
“People say I'm a good listener. It's Yuu, by the way.”  
  
_“What is weakness to you?”_  
  
“I'm Emiko.” She sets down her drink, extending her small hand, “Nice to meet you.”  
  
_“Failure.”_


	5. Part A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I often think that we are like the carp swimming contentedly in that pond. We live out our lives in our own "pond," confident that our universe consists of only the familiar and the visible."

_“I often think that we are like the carp swimming contentedly in that pond. We live out our lives in our own "pond," confident that our universe consists of only the familiar and the visible._  
  
Since that night... the space-time slips have stopped.  
  
Soft fingers grazing my cheek, tickling the bruised flesh.  
  
“You have a meeting today, Yuu.”  
I groan, wriggling under the covers with some difficulty, wincing at the dull pain in my chest and arm.  
She laughs, reaching under the sheet to pinch at my side. “If I have to take care of you and still go to work while I'm feeling sick, then you can manage to make it into work today. Kouyou-kun is coming to pick you up.”  
She's half-naked, wearing nothing but a pair of pale blue panties. I watch her from my position under the blankets as she leans on her elbow to sit up and runs her fingers through her long hair, ties it in a low, messy ponytail and leans in for a chaste kiss.  
“You're feeling sick?”  
She sighs softly against my lips and places her hand on my chest, I imagine that she is trying her best not to shake me. “Yuu, I've told you I've been feeling sick for about a week now. Some sort of... stomach bug maybe?” She bites her lip, working it nervously between her teeth before casting her eyes downwards and clearing her throat.  
Placing one hand lightly on her thigh, I take a moment to really look at her, clearly tired and sick, but something about the way her cheeks are coloured a splotchy scarlet makes my stomach lurch with a strange combination of fear and joy.  
“Emi...” I reach forward tentatively, my hand coming to rest lightly on her small, flat stomach.  
She places her hand over mine, furrowing her eyebrows and smiling questioningly, the slight quivering of her lips almost undetectable.  
“Hm?”  
Staring into her eyes, I am reminded sharply of a frightened rabbit, all liquid brown eyes and nervous energy; as always, I feel the overwhelming urge to protect her.  
Is this love?  
When we first met, I spent the entire evening entranced by her tiny, trembling hands. I wanted to take them and press them tightly in my own, to assure her that everything would be okay. When I fucked her, I wondered what it would be like to love her.  
  
“Just... take it easy, okay?”  
  
 _...most people are content with a life among shadows. They give no thought to what is casting the shadows. They think that shadows are all there are, never realizing even that they are, in fact, shadows._  
  
“You're awfully quiet Yuu, are you sure you're feeling up to a meeting?”  
I absent-mindedly brush my fingers against yours where they rest on the stick shift. But I feel your body reflexively stiffen at the contact and my hand hastily retreats to my lap.  
“Yuu?”  
“Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired.”  
“How's Emiko-chan?” Your voice is quiet, thoughtful. “You said she was feeling sick...”  
“She's pregnant.”  
Your sudden outburst is only slightly surprising.  
“What the fuck, Yuu?!”  
“I'm sorry.”  
“You're... you're sorry? When did she tell you?”  
“She hasn't told me yet.”  
“What are you, some kind of fucking physic or something?” You grumble, trying your best to hide your irritation as you stare at the street straight ahead. “Why would you tell me something you don't know for sure?” You mutter under your breath, still pretending to concentrate on the road.  
“I don't know if...” I trail off.  
“Don't know what?”  
“If this is what I want.”  
You snort, running a hand through your hair irritably. “Well, it's what you chose, so you'd better not fuck it up. I like Emiko-chan... she's good for you.”  
“Who are you trying to convince Kou?”  
You turn your head sharply, but the dark, over-sized glasses mask the expression in your eyes.  
“The light's green.” I mutter.  
You pull into the parking garage, slowing to a stop and taking a deep breath, laying your head backwards against the headrest and staring at the roof of the car.  
“I don't think... I'm the right person to be talking to about your relationship with Emiko...” You trail off, then turn to look at me again. “I'm sorry. About before, that was a shitty way to react... you just surprised me. I suppose... I should be congratulating you.”  
“She doesn't make me happy.”  
“You're still such a kid.” You murmur, reaching into your back pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, slipping one between your lips and lighting it on one fluid motion, “She's not responsible for your happiness, you are.”  
“That's rich, coming from you.”  
“Yuu...” There's a warning note in your voice, but I know that if I don't say it now, it will never be said.  
You reach for the door handle hastily, but I latch my fingers onto your arm, and you turn your head towards me again, pulling off your sunglasses in exasperation.  
There's a brief flash of something other than annoyance before you mutter, “That was a lifetime ago, why are you bringing it up now?”  
You take another long drag from the cigarette before passing it to me as you exhale.  
I suppose it might seem like a lifetime ago to you.  
In this world... it's been years since that night, and we've only been drunk enough a dozen times since then to wake up naked, sticky and shamefaced.  
But to me... your touch, taste, and smell  
are so recent  
and so real.  
“I need you.”  
  
 _“The past is right here and now with us, it's just rearranged into the present.”_  
  
You hesitate. Lips parted with an indrawn breath, as if behind them lay a rush of words. But they close abruptly, the words left unsaid.  
Then, very lightly, so softly I have to strain to make it out, you murmur, “We can't change the past, Yuu.”  
“We can stop pretending like it never happened.”  
You balk, “To what end? What, you're going to leave Emiko and your kid and we're going to live happily ever after? Grow up.”  
To what end? The words tumble around in my head like sudsy clothes in a washing machine. To what end? End to what? What to end?  
Sighing heavily, you reach for the door handle again, pulling roughly and swinging your legs out of the car, leaving your back to me as you remark, “We... we can't spend the rest of our lives pursuing one lost moment.”  
I move to stop you as you slam the car door closed and walk towards the parking garage exit, hands in your jacket pockets and beanie pulled snugly into place, but just as I begin to raise my voice, my phone lights up.  
  
“Can we talk later tonight? It's important. -E”  
  
As I begin to type my reply, I am slowly overtaken by an incredible lightness at the realization that this reality, this life, my only real life, has been formed by millions of tiny split-second impressions and decisions, and each choice I have made up until now, has been only one choice of an infinite number.  
All I can do now, is continue to choose.  
I am living life as I made it, and right now is all there will ever be.  
  
 _“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”_


	6. Part B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I often think that we are like the carp swimming contentedly in that pond. We live out our lives in our own "pond," confident that our universe consists of only the familiar and the visible.”

_“I often think that we are like the carp swimming contentedly in that pond. We live out our lives in our own "pond," confident that our universe consists of only the familiar and the visible.”_  
  
Since that night... the space-time slips have stopped.  
  
Rough fingers grazing my cheek, tickling the bruised flesh.  
  
“Don't make me drag you out of bed.”  
I groan, wriggling under the covers with some difficulty, wincing at the dull pain in my chest and arm.  
You laugh, reaching under the sheet to pinch at my side. “Why is it again that -I'm- pulling you out of bed, not the other way around?” You tease.  
You're half-naked, wearing nothing but a pair of navy blue boxers. I watch from my position under the blankets as you lean on your elbow to sit up and run your fingers through your long hair, tie it in a low, messy ponytail and lean in for a chaste kiss. “Are you feeling up to a meeting today?” You ask with a sudden seriousness.  
“I'm fine, really.”  
You sigh softly against my lips and place your hand on my chest, I imagine that you are trying your best not to shake me. “You promised me you wouldn't over-exert yourself.” You bite your lip, working it nervously between your teeth before leaning in for another kiss and smiling when I run the fingers of my mobile hand gently along your jawline. “I'll make us some toast.”  
Moving my hand from your chin I drag it lightly along your thigh and take a moment to really look at you, your hair destroyed from falling asleep without drying it after your bath, and your eyes and lips swollen with sleep.  
“Kou...” I reach forward tentatively, tucking your messy blond hair behind an ear.  
“Hm?”  
  
Staring at you, I feel my chest tighten and am reminded sharply of a story I once read;  
human beings were once made of two. Four hands, four feet, a head with two faces; they could roll around the earth head over heels. As in most ancient tales, humans became arrogant in their primeval bliss; they forgot to worship the gods who gave them their happiness, and so as punishment, they were split in two. But in their bloody, confused state, humans began to die from self-neglect. They could no longer see their other halves, and wanted only to rejoin with themselves, to again make one of two. The gods took pity on the people, and turned their heads about on their bodies so they might be able to search for their other halves.  
  
The desire and pursuit of the whole is called love.  
Is this love?  
When we first met, I spent the entire night watching your face. You were excited about something, your features animated, eyes alight with a familiar inner fire. I had the uncanny feeling that I was actually looking at myself when I was looking at you. When we fucked, I already loved you. I fell in love before I could take the time to wonder what it would be like to love you.  
  
“I'll be right there.”  
  
_...most people are content with a life among shadows. They give no thought to what is casting the shadows. They think that shadows are all there are, never realizing even that they are, in fact, shadows._  
  
Making my way out of the bedroom, dressed in the most comfortable clothes I could find, I glance into the spare room, taking note of the papers strewn carelessly on the floor and your acoustic leaning against the chair you must have been sitting in the night before.  
A flash of another life, of pale green walls and changing table. Of Emiko, sitting comfortably in a glider chair, humming softly to herself as she rocks our baby to sleep.  
As quickly as it appears, the phantom disappears and I'm left staring dumbly at my own collection of guitars, shaking with the feeling of intense loss resonating through my body.  
“Breakfast” I hear you call from the kitchen. “Yutaka has already called twice, we're late.” You add hesitantly, peaking your head around the corner and into the hallway where I am still standing. “Yuu?”  
“Coming.”  
“You're a vision.” You chuckle, setting a cup of coffee on the kitchen counter and gesturing towards the toaster. “You could have at least put on something clean.” You wrinkle your nose in assumed distaste.  
“And you're picture perfect.” I tease, tugging on the wild hair peaking out from beneath your dark beanie.  
You laugh and usher me towards the table. “Maybe if we're late enough we won't have to go.”  
“Aren't you supposed to be the responsible one?”  
“Says who?”  
I shrug and sip at my coffee.  
“Do you ever think about kids?”  
You cough slightly and take a moment to swallow before you set your drink down, dabbing daintily at your mouth with a napkin. “What about them?”  
“Having them.”  
“Since when have we ever thought about kids... and why are you bringing that up right now?” You glance at your watch and place your hands on the table, one on top of the other.  
They don't shake.  
Despite how delicate they may appear, your hands have always been steadier than mine.  
“Do you ever think about what might have happened... if we never made it?” I don't clarify which 'we.'  
  
_“The past is right here and now with us, it's just rearranged into the present.”_  
  
You hesitate. Lips parted with an indrawn breath, as if behind them lay a rush of words. But they close abruptly, the words left unsaid.  
Then, very lightly, so softly I have to strain to make it out, you murmur, “We can't change the past, Yuu.” The look you're giving me suggests you'd rather talk about something else.  
“You'd be surprised.”  
You raise an eyebrow before slipping on your sunglasses and reaching out a hand to help me stand.  
“What do we need kids for anyway, it's been enough work just taking care of you.” You murmur softly. I know it's meant to lighten the mood, and I manage half a smile.  
As we make our way carefully down the stairs you assert quietly, “It's not like I'm saying absolutely one hundred percent no, you know.” You squeeze my hand and jingle your keys nervously in your other hand.  
I turn my head just enough to watch you speak.  
“We have plenty of time to decide... I just...” You shrug before leaning your head against my shoulder as we walk, “I don't want to live my life thinking 'what if?' I think when it's time, we'll know. The moment won't be lost on us.”  
  
As we reach the car, I am slowly overtaken by an incredible lightness at the realization that this reality, this life, my only real life, has been formed by millions of tiny split-second impressions and decisions, and each choice I have made up until now, has been only one choice of an infinite number.  
All I can do now, is continue to choose.  
I am living life as I made it, and right now is all there will ever be.  
  
_“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted at:
> 
> http://sciencesaves.livejournal.com/19515.html  
> http://sciencesaves.livejournal.com/19933.html  
> http://sciencesaves.livejournal.com/20142.html  
> http://sciencesaves.livejournal.com/20249.html  
> http://sciencesaves.livejournal.com/21701.html


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